


Drag Me Out Of The Dark

by allrounderinsane



Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: Faulkley, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 12:20:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1226035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allrounderinsane/pseuds/allrounderinsane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Sometimes when things are falling apart, they may actually be falling into place' - Unknown</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’m a tad unsure about this story – it may soon descend into an overly-emotional mess. Please tell me if it gets too much this way. It’s primarily Faulkley orientated and starts on the night of the 17th January during the Australia vs England ODI at the Gabba. Thank you so much to offthebails for your invaluable assistance in writing this chapter. This chapter is very long, I have to admit.

As soon as George Bailey witnessed the white cricket ball safely pocketed in the hands of Ravi Bopara, he firmly pressed his thumbs into the brightly-coloured beach ball that was placed in his lap. Without speaking, he slapped James Faulkner on the shoulder as the younger man put on his batting gloves.

“Good luck, Jimmy,” George whispered in a dazed tone as Jimmy swiftly headed out to bat.

His words disintegrated as they floated away in the gentle summer breeze. George watched with intent as Jimmy marked his guard, then faced his first ball from Tim Bresnan. It was a dot ball. He watched the next over closely, as Jimmy and Nathan Coulter-Nile took four runs off it. George could feel the tension rising within in.  
He always knew that a chase over 300 would be difficult, especially seeing as they now needed 91 runs off 14 overs with only three wickets in hand. During the next over from Bresnan, Nathan hit a six that slightly calmed George. He was fully aware that Nathan, Jimmy and Mitchell Johnson – the next batsman in – could certainly strike a cricket ball.  
After that, there was a three-run over, then a four-run over, followed by another four-run over, during which Nathan was dismissed leg before wicket to Ben Stokes for 16. Mitchell Johnson placed his hands into his batting gloves.

“You’ll go well, Mitch,” George murmured.

The bowler turned to him with a nervous smile. Just seven runs came off the next three overs, culminating in Mitchell’s dismissal off the last ball of the 44th over, caught behind by Jos Buttler off the bowling of Ravi Bopara for just one. Clint McKay, Australia’s last man, prepared to head out to bat.

“You’ll be alright, Clint,” George tried to reassure his teammate before he walked out to bat.

He wanted to add ‘Just listen to Jimmy’, but he didn’t. After all, if he himself hadn’t been dismissed reasonably cheaply earlier in the evening, they would not have needed the last pair to put on 57 off six overs. Ben Stokes was bowling and Jimmy was on strike. George felt his mouth slipping open as he watched the ball sail over midwicket and over the rope.

The next ball was bowled and yet another six was hit. George found himself flashing back to a night in Mohali a few months earlier. Could it happen again? Would it happen again? Only one run came off the remaining four balls in the over. The required run rate was still eight-and-a-half runs per over. There was only one wicket in hand.  
With three runs scored off the 46th over, the required run rate climbed above ten an over. Stokes began bowling his 9th over, the 47th of the innings, and Jimmy sent the fifth ball soaring. George’s fingers tensed and pressed into the beach ball in his lap, jamming it against his thighs. The fielder, Joe Root, was out in the right area of the field.  
Some of the players stood up, but George remained seated as the ball entered the young Yorkshireman’s fingers. He gasped as he watched Joe tumble over the rope. The umpire signaled a six. Not only was the match still alive, they were six runs closer to a victory. George started bouncing the beach ball on his lap during the third-last over.  
As he watched Jimmy suffering cramps on the field, his own troublesome hip began to ache once more. George shuffled in his seat and grimaced quietly. This caused the beach ball to roll into the head of their physio, Alex Kountouris.

“How are you feeling, Bails,” Alex queried.

The over ended. They needed 25 runs off 2 overs with Jimmy on strike.

“Nervous,” George replied in a calm tone that he usually reserved for press conferences.

Alex sighed and turned around to face the batsman.

“Are you feeling any physical pain?” he questioned more specifically.

George moaned.

“There’s a bit of pain there now, it’s a bit achey,” he admitted.

Alex nodded, scribbling down the information on a notepad in his lap.

“I’ll give you a full assessment after the match,” he informed him as Ben Stokes ran into bowl.

It was a dot ball. All of the Australians in the viewing area tried to hide their nervous and worried sighs. Stokes ran into bowl once more and Jimmy latched onto it, depositing it into the first tier of the grandstand. George felt the anticipation strike his heart like lightning. His heart was suddenly thumping in his chest, causing his heartbeat to throb throughout his entire aching body. The next ball again found itself back in the first tier.

With a single off the last ball of the over, the equation was very simple for Australia. Six balls from Tim Bresnan, twelve runs to win, one wicket in hand and Jimmy would be on strike. The first ball was top-edged and . . . just over the keeper’s head for four. George couldn’t breathe. The second ball was pulled away to the boundary.  
Four runs from four balls – surely they couldn’t lose from there? Tim Bresnan ran into bowl to Jimmy. The ball was smashed away and avoided the diving fielder. The Australian squad and their support staff all leaped to their feet and screamed. The beach ball tumbled down the rows of seats as George frantically jumped and danced around, the ecstasy of victory numbing the pain of his injury.

Eventually, as Jimmy and Clint began to head off the ground, the team filtered down onto the field in order to form a guard of honour for their match-winners. They all clapped Clint and Jimmy all the way and afforded them both a celebratory pat on the back or head. Finally, they disappeared down the race to the dressing rooms.  
George froze as Jimmy turned the corner to be out of sight. The image of the other man was implanted on his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to mysticaltramping, koakuma-tsuri, thebattingfiend and silly-mid-on for assisting me with Chapter One (sorry for not thanking you earlier!). I’d also like to thank viajerra, no-coordination and shinhwafarts for your likes, with a special shout-out to offthebails, for both your like and your delightful comment.

James Faulkner waited outside the white door of the physio’s room. He paced up and down in the short hallway, anxiously waiting for news of George Bailey’s injury. Jimmy stopped walking and pressed the side of his face against the cool door. He attempted to eavesdrop on the conversation that George and Alex Kountouris were engaging in. After a moment, Jimmy heard Alex heading over towards the door, so he quickly walked away sheepishly. The physiotherapist opened the door and stared out at Jimmy, who look back at him.

“Oh, hey hero,” he greeted in a surprised tone.

Jimmy grinned, then adopted a serious expression.

“How’s George?” he queried, leaning back against the wall.

Alex turned to his side as George appeared next to him.

“You can ask him yourself,” he replied calmly.

Alex walked away so that George and Jimmy were left all alone in the hallway.

“How are you?” Jimmy strangled the words out, not particularly wanting to know the answer if it was negative.

George shook his head in a slightly disappointed, yet accepting fashion.

“I’m out for Sydney,” he confessed.

George watched as Jimmy’s shoulders slumped and some of the excited shine disappeared from his eyes.

“But don’t worry,” he regained his trademark smile and walked towards the other man, “I’ll be there to get my turn to stir your Gatorade”.

Jimmy forced himself to smile. He placed his hand on George’s shoulder.

“I’ll be back for Perth, I promise,” the older man reassured.

Jimmy nodded, the words washing over him like the cool ocean on a hot summer day. George’s positivity made him feel more comfortable, but there was still a nagging thought that George would be positive regardless.

“We should probably go to join the others,” Jimmy suggested, although, to be perfectly honest, he was rather enjoying being all alone with George in a hallway.

George gazed away, a disappointed look forming in his eyes.

“What is it, George?” Jimmy queried, gripping on the other man’s shoulder.

George sighed. He wasn’t entirely sure that the confession burning the insides of his lips was a professional one. However, the realisation he had experienced while watching Jimmy walk away from him earlier that night was desperate to be put into words.

“I . . . I love you Jimmy,” George stammered with genuine affection in his voice.

Jimmy didn’t know how to respond. He could tell by the tone of George’s voice that he wasn’t talking out of devotion between teammates.

“Let’s sit down,” Jimmy suggested, then immediately regretted it.

His tone of voice accidentally implied that he was about to give George bad news. In truth, he didn’t know what news he had to give. They sat down on a bench seat by the wall and placed their arms around each other’s shoulders.

“I don’t want my heart rate to quicken when I meet you at breakfast. I want to wake up with you in my arms,” George was trying his very best to be romantic, “I don’t want to just like your selfies on Instagram. I want to be in your selfies on Instagram”.

Jimmy laughed. He knew that his teammate was trying his absolute best to be as romantic and poetic as possible.

“Don’t worry, George,” Jimmy replied, “You can be in my selfies whenever you want to”.

This calmed George a little bit. He still didn’t have an answer to his unspoken question.

“Um, Jimmy,” George murmured, his voice possessing the innocence of a child, “Do you love me too?”

He almost didn’t want to know what the answer was.

“I think so,” Jimmy responded.

As soon as he said it, he immediately wished he hadn’t. He needed some time to think before he gave George the insightful answer that he deserved. George found himself inching his head a little bit closer to Jimmy’s. Suddenly, the lights went out in the hallway. They were both surprised, but assumed that their teammates or the security staff had guessed that the hallway was empty.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” George muttered calmly.

Although he could barely see the other man, he grabbed onto Jimmy’s neck to pull his head closer and place a gentle, chaste kiss on his lips. Jimmy appreciate the soft, comfortable sensation.

“I want to kiss you again,” he responded firmly, “But I want to be able to see your face while I do so”.

“Yes,” George whispered.

They grasped hands and stood up simultaneously. Jimmy took the lead and pulled George back towards the physio’s room. He opened the door and they were both flooded by the brightness coming from the light that had been left on the small room. Jimmy dragged George into the room, then flashed a flirtatious smile. He kicked the door shut behind them. Jimmy wrapped his arms around George’s neck and placed a passionate kiss on his lips. The older man wrapped his arms around Jimmy’s waist and walked backwards until he was wedged between the wall and the other man.

“I do love you George,” Jimmy uttered sincerely as he ever so briefly broke away from their lip-lock.

George felt a surge of happiness rush through his body that made his muscles tingle with delight and desire.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to offthebails, brilliantrory and circulaire for your likes, with an extra special mention to shinhwafarts/Sunny for your lovely comments on LiveJournal.

The next day, the Australian cricket team prepared to fly to Sydney for the next One Day International. George Bailey and Mitchell Johnson were sitting in the airport lounge, excitedly reading the newspaper articles about James Faulkner’s heroics the night before. The aforementioned young cricketer strolled over to where his teammates were sitting, carrying a cardboard tray containing three paper cups of tea.

“You know, our hero really shouldn’t have been sent on the tea run, Bails,” Mitchell muttered in a judgmental, yet slightly sarcastic tone, as he looked up from his newspaper.  
George glanced up from his own newspaper and glared over to Mitchell.

“I didn’t send him!” he admitted his innocence.

Jimmy passed George his cup of tea out of the tray. The older man took the steaming cup and placed it on the wide armrest of his chair.

“Thanks, babe,” George replied casually.

The last word had accidentally slipped out of his lips. Mitchell’s eyes lit up as Jimmy sheepishly passed him his own cup of tea, then quickly sat down in the seat next to George and fixed his eyes to his feet.

“Hey Finchy!” Mitchell called out across the lounge, “I told you!”

Another of their teammates, Aaron Finch, walked across from his seat on the other side of the room and sat down next to Mitchell.

“You told me what?” Aaron queried.

“I told you that Faulks and Bails were an item!” Mitchell whispered excitedly.

Aaron’s jaw dropped as both George and Jimmy stood up simultaneously and moved a few seats over, then sitting back down again. George moved his newspaper over so that they could both bury their heads into it while Mitchell recounted what had just happened to Aaron.

“Babe?” Jimmy murmured with a chuckle, “Seriously?”

George immediately blushed bright red and nervously giggled along with the other man. He raised his cup of tea to his lips and took a long sip of the scorching liquid. Not wanting to voice his slight displeasure at the drink’s extremely high temperature, George grabbed onto Jimmy’s wrist and squeezed it until the burning sensation in his mouth and throat had ceased.

“George,” the younger man muttered in a serious tone, “What are you doing?”

George sheepishly released his grip and pushed his fingers into his own temple.

“Nothing,” he stated, “Just burning my tongue off and using your arm for moral support”.

Jimmy chuckled once more.

“Are you alright now, babe?” he queried, placing emphasis on the final word.

George finally found it within himself to laugh comfortably at his slip-up. He nodded his head in a firm action that responded to Jimmy’s question.

“I’m sorry Jimmy,” George murmured in a serious tone of voice.

Jimmy just smiled to tell the other man that his apology had been accepted. It was all he needed to do. George simply took Jimmy’s hand in his to indicate his thanks. Although their romantic relationship was still newborn, they had own each other long enough as friends and teammates to have developed a silent connection between them.

The next day, George Bailey sat in the Australian dressing room as his teammates headed out onto the field to play the Third One Day International of the series against England. He had been ruled out due to his injury, but was still attending the match with the squad.

“Play well, lads,” George stated in an encouraging tone, clapping his hands as the players exited.

By coincidence, Jimmy happened to be the last out of the dressing room.

“Play well, babe,” he added quietly, slapping the other man’s backside.

Jimmy giggled flirtatiously and blew a kiss to George before chasing after his teammates. George folded his arms and settled in the chair. He decided to appreciate the opportunity to be able to watch Jimmy bowl without being required to concentrate in the field. Michael Clarke threw him the new ball, so George didn’t have to wait long for his opportunity. He watched Jimmy bend and stretch to warm up before bowling, allowing him to observe and appreciate the other man’s physique, albeit from a distance. The first ball was a dot ball and while Jimmy went back to the top of his mark, George moved his plastic chair onto the balcony of the dressing room. He was listening to the Channel Nine commentary in the bright yellow earpiece that all of the players were provided with. George was milking every word of praise for both Jimmy’s batting and bowling that the commentators were providing. Just one run came off the first over.

“Good start, Jimmy, great start,” he cheered, clapping loudly.

George knew that Jimmy wouldn’t be able to hear him, but he liked to pretend that he could. While commentating, Michael Hussey began talking about the detachment an injured player feels while recovering. His eyes followed Jimmy in the field during the next over, as if they were attached with magnetic force. Alastair Cook hit the second ball of Jimmy’s second over for four. As the dejected bowler charged back to the top of his run, George felt an ever-strengthening urge to be closer to the other man. When a second boundary was belted off the over, this time hit by Ian Bell, Jimmy wiped his forehead with his arm. In that moment, George suddenly felt the detachment that Hussey had spoken about. He intensely wanted to be out on the field, comforting Jimmy during his spot of bother. George felt helpless to think that the only thing he could do for the man he loved was to just sit and watch, just like the other forty-thousand spectators in the ground.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Sunny for your never-ending support of this story. Thank you also to broadyugh for your comments. I really appreciate you guys!

Australia chased down England’s score with ten overs to spare. The team had won the One Day International series in the smallest possible number of matches. They celebrated in their dressing rooms for a few hours. George Bailey spent most of that time sitting on the floor next to James Faulkner, his head resting on the other man’s shoulder. The squad returned to their hotel just after midnight. George and Jimmy exited the lift hand-in-hand and only then remembered that their rooms were in opposite directions. Jimmy spun himself in towards George and placed his fingertips on the other man’s shoulder.

“How about?” he murmured into George’s temple, “We both go back to my room”.

George hummed as he pressed his face into Jimmy’s chest.

“Yes,” he agreed, “But no sex”.

Jimmy stepped backwards, slightly taken aback by George’s answer.

“Did you really think that was what I meant?” he questioned.

They grasped hands and began strolling along the hallway towards Jimmy’s room.

“I was just thinking that, with my injury, it’s probably not the best idea,” George explained, “And I just wanted to make that clear now”.

Jimmy nodded his head. When they reached the room, he inserted the keycard into the slot, which allowed him to open the door.

“I just want to cradle you in my arms, babe,” he murmured as they both entered the room, “I want to wake up beside you in the morning”.

Jimmy placed emphasis on the words ‘I’ and ‘you’, causing George to beam and squeeze tighter on the other man’s hand.

“I love you,” Jimmy made sure that George was fully aware of this by speaking in a confident tone.

George sat down on the bed.

“I love you too, babe,” he replied casually.

Jimmy sat down beside George and wrapped his arms around the other man’s torso under his armpits.

“Babe, babe, babe, let me cuddle you, babe,” he muttered while giggling.

George placed a gentle kiss to Jimmy’s temple.

“I’m tired,” he added with a sigh.

Jimmy also sighed.

“Me too, babe,” he agreed, “Let’s go to bed”.

They let go of one another and Jimmy headed off towards his suitcase to change into his pyjamas. When he spun back around to face George in his white singlet and green satin shorts, Jimmy hummed in realisation that the other man had nothing to wear to bed.

“Will you be comfortable sleeping in that?” he awkwardly asked George.

The older man simply nodded. He then pulled off his shirt, exposing his bare chest to Jimmy, who eyed the other man’s body up and down.

“You’re welcome,” George murmured with a giggle.

He pulled back the clean white sheets and climbed into the bed, lying down with his head on the soft pillow. Jimmy folded over the sheets on his own side of the bed. He sat down, swung his legs around, and then pulled the sheets over them. Jimmy snuggled down beside George. They grasped hands and smiled.

“I wonder who Finchy and Mitch have told,” George mused.

Jimmy sighed in thought, pressing his head back into the pillow. He rolled his tongue, then smiled.

“Maybe everyone,” Jimmy speculated, “Maybe no-one”.

George shuffled his head over so that his temple was pressed against Jimmy’s. He hummed in response to what the other man had said. Jimmy cleared his throat and chose to change the subject.

“Are you in any pain, babe?” he asked in a serious tone.

George thought about the question for a moment. He was cautious not to say anything that would alarm Jimmy.

“It aches a bit,” George admitted, “But it’s nothing I’m not used to”.

Jimmy squeezed on the other man’s hand and yawned. George yawned too.

“Are you doing anything tomorrow?” Jimmy asked.

George finally finished yawning before he spoke.

“I’ve got a date coming for the AB Medal, Starkid’s flying up in the morning and I’m picking her up from the airport,” he explained.

Jimmy was not exactly surprised that George had invited ‘Starkid’ as he dubbed her. She was George’s childhood best friend from back home in Launceston.

“Is Levi coming up too?” Jimmy asked, referring to the husband of Grace, which was Starkid’s real name.

“No,” George responded quickly.

Jimmy wriggled in towards the other man’s body, his heart rate increasing slightly.

“Are you going to, you know, tell her about us?” he queried, genuinely curious as to what the answer was.

George hummed as he pondered what his response would be. Starkid knew both himself and Jimmy well and he trusted her.

“Do you want me to?” he asked in an innocent tone.

Jimmy sighed in thought and yawned once more.

“If you want to, then I think we should,” he decided.

“So do I,” George agreed, “Now, don’t tell me that you’ll be going it alone tomorrow night, babe”.

Jimmy made his best attempt at shaking his head without head-butting George.

“No,” he assured the other man, “Gazza, Boof and I are going to stick together”.

George nodded slightly, pressing his head into the pillow. He propped himself up on his elbows and turned his torso to place a gentle kiss on Jimmy’s lips.

“I love you, babe,” he murmured sincerely.

“I love you too, babe,” Jimmy replied with a smile.


End file.
